Overcoming Reputation
by awkward
Summary: Seamus only wants to be taken seriously, but it's hard to convince anyone that he wants to be - and have - more than the fun fling he's always been. [SeamusBlaise]


This is just the start of a story I've been working on for a long time - I have a lot of trouble with motivation and commitment. I really do want to finish it, but since it's been so long I really do want some feedback. This is unbetaed and unfinished, just the start of a (hopefully) long story. I'd like some of your ideas about characterization, plot, the basics. If you're looking for fast updates, this probably isn't the story for you - consider this a test post, if you will. 

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When everyone came back from Christmas break they found pure white snow almost a meter high surrounding the castle as far as they could see. Paths wound around the castle but left huge areas of untouched snow just asking for snowball fights and self-propelling-sleds. Dean sketched hundreds of pages of the frozen lake, using pastels, charcoal, paint and pencil. Hermione and Ron disappeared for hours to come back with mysteriously red cheeks and snowy hair, but didn't complain about the cold. Neville, Collin and Ginny built an entire snow family and enchanted them to sing carols when students walked by on their way to Care of Magical Creatures in the mornings. Seamus stayed in Gryffindor tower with a horrible, horrible cold. Winter sucked.

On the day of the Great-Inter-House-Snowball-War Seamus shuffled into the library carrying a box of tissues and a small pillow. He stood at the huge windows to watch for a few minutes but soon turned back to a long essay in depression and defeat. A short history of herbal remedies and their uses. He tried to laugh at the irony but quickly succumbed to a choking cough. According to Madame Pomfrey he had caught the cold because he didn't dress warmly enough, and so he would keep the cold and learn his lesson. Sadists, the lot of them.

After writing half a parchment on herbal remedies and crossing out almost twice as much, Seamus heard a loud thud, like something heavy falling on carpet. Wonderful, someone else who didn't go to the stupid snow fight. A quick check around the library led him to the decisions that he was hallucinating and Madame Pomfrey would soon be sued for malpractice. Telling him to just spend time in bed.

Ten minutes later the thud sounded again, this time followed by two similar noises. Grumbling about poltergeists who didn't know when to keep to themselves, Seamus stood up and peered between the towering shelves of books surrounding him. Empty aisle, empty, someone in the shadows, empty. Seamus whipped his head around and stared at the large figure crouching at the bottom of an over-stuffed shelf of dusty books. The person pulled an extremely thin book from the very bottom of a precarious looking pile and placed it on the top of their own pile. They then slowly stood, and turned to face the Irishman watching at the end of the aisle.

Blaise Zabini. Just his luck, the only person not outside having fun was a Slytherin, and the quietest of the house at that. Seamus decided that if he had no choice there couldn't be anything wrong with just talking to the other boy, and so he grinned widely.

"Are you writing that herbology essay too?" He quickly tried to remember if that class was with the Slytherins. There wasn't any confusion in the other boys face, so he must have gotten it right. Actually, there wasn't any expression at all on Blaise's face. Confused, Seamus slowly backed out of his way.

"Did you want help, then?" The other boy's voice was harsh and accusing, and Seamus quickly saw his error. Mumbling an apology, he explained that he only wanted company. "All right. As long as you don't just want my answers."

Surprisingly, most of that afternoon was spent in comfortable silence as the two boys worked on their essays. Every once in a while Seamus would glance up at Blaise, to see him scanning the books he had piled beside him or scribbling messy notes on an already crammed parchment. Once, though, he looked up to see dark eyes looking contemplatively back at him. Both pairs of eyes quickly returned to their work.

Finally, a low buzzing gathered around them and Seamus realized the students were done with their war. He slowly rolled up his essay, glad the parchment was almost full. Usually it took him days to concentrate on something well enough to write it, but when everyone else was gone it seemed like the time flew by. He smiled one last time at Blaise and slowly made his way back to the noise of Gryffindor tower, still wondering what made the Slytherin stay inside.

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Seamus watched Blaise after that, because he couldn't understand him. He learned where Blaise went, who with, and how often. He learned all about his habits, his gestures, his way of doing things. Blaise of course noticed Seamus stalking him, met his eyes once, twice, three times. Then it was time for Blaise to confront him... but he didn't. He broke the rules, and instead Blaise watched Seamus. Obviously, there wasn't much to watch because all Seamus could do was stare at Blaise.

For almost a week they watched each other. Seamus spent most of this time wondering why Blaise was doing this differently. Any other time he had watched someone he was considering they would be flattered and nervous, but almost always curious enough to talk to him. Sometimes he had to fight the urge to go up to Blaise and ask him what he was thinking. Other times he tried to make Blaise come to him. It never even occurred to him to look away - it must have been the Gryffindor in him.

It could have just stayed like that forever if it wasn't for Dean. He noticed his best friend's distraction. Seamus was supposed to be a happy-go-lucky Gryffindor, whistling when it was quiet and shouting when it wasn't. Seamus wasn't supposed to be thoughtful and obsessed. Seamus definitely wasn't supposed to ignore Dean when he was trying to get him to laugh at Snape in potions. Dean decided it was up to him to get Seamus back to normal, and so he went to see Blaise.

Seamus didn't know exactly what Dean said, and neither of the boys would ever tell him. All he knew was that the next day Blaise met his eyes across the great hall, glanced at the doors and then back at Seamus. He then got up out of his seat and left breakfast behind. Blaise never left before he finished eating, so Seamus almost ran to the doors after him. When he burst into the hallway he barely managed to slow down before running into the Slytherin, who held him at arms length.

"You've been watching me." Blaise started the conversation bluntly, and Seamus was surprised at the very un-Slytherin approach. On the other hand, Blaise had always been a different sort of Slytherin. The type to keep silent until he was ready to talk. Apparently he was the type to say everything up front except what he meant. "Why?" he continued, as if he didn't know all ready. Then he surprised Seamus by grabbing the back of his neck, pushing him up against the wall and kissing him so passionately Seamus didn't even realize he was responding. Finally they broke apart, gasping.

Seamus looked up into Blaise's dark eyes and tried to catch his breath. "That's about why," was all he could think to say, and then he pulled Blaise back down on him.

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At first that was all it was - touching, kissing, being near one another. Seamus knew that's all Blaise wanted, so that was all he gave him. That's all he had ever had to give, but he knew this was different, and that it could turn out very badly if he didn't play by Blaise's rules. Seamus had always wanted to find someone else who just wanted to fool around a bit without committing to anything, but now that he had found Blaise he wasn't so sure it was what he needed. Still, it was what Blaise was after, and so Seamus let things just happen for a while.

After over a month of a purely physical relationship, though, he couldn't resist the temptation to just push for conversation ever so slightly. He wanted to get inside Blaise's head, and though the snogging was good - ok, great - he wanted more this time. It was different because Blaise had just watched him, because Blaise wasn't the one starting the conversation. This time Blaise was the one holding his cards back, and Seamus knew what that meant. He had never been on this end of it, though, and he was hoping he could change it.

Unfortunately, Seamus wasn't big on plans. All his life he had lived on intuition, making plans at the last minute and cramming for tests and exams the night before. The only thing he had ever planned was his outfit, and that was because his second cousin was getting married.

"Dean." Seamus watched his friend ignore him. "Dean." Silence. "Dean!" Finally he was granted a curious glance. "I need your help again." With a Dark Glare, Dean slowly lowered his sketch (a solitary figure skating on the frozen lake - Snape? - Seamus shook his head clear). Dean was glaring angrily at his best friend.

"Is this about Zabini again?" At Seamus' guilty look, Dean sighed in exasperation. "Why don't you just go with instinct like a good little Gryffindor and let me finish my drawing for once! You'd think I'm dating him with the amount of time I spend trying to help you." Dean turned back to his drawing, a sign of dismissal for his friend.

"See if I let you draw me again when you won't even help me with this!" Seamus muttered under his breath.

Dean must have heard him because as he was leaving he heard a shout from the dorm, "You can't even sit still long enough to have your picture taken, you're a horrible model!" Feeling utterly betrayed, Seamus trudged down to the common room to think. Finding it empty except for Ron and Neville, he gave a predatory grin and stalked up behind them.

"Hey, guuuuuuuuuys." They both looked up at the grinning Irishman warily. "What are you up to? Homework? That essay isn't due for a week!" They only glanced at each other. Ron made as if to go back to work and Seamus whined "Oh come on! Help a guy out for once. It's not like I never helped you with girls!"

Neville slowly started to nod his head and whispered something to Ron, who only nodded in return. "What's the problem now, Seamus."

He thought for a minute about how to explain exactly what he was thinking. "How do you tell if someone is serious about a relationship?"

Ron stared intently at his quill for a few minutes, before turning to look back up at him. "Ask Hermione?" Seamus was suddenly reminded of who he was talking to. He decided it was time to talk to an expert.

"Right. Where's Hermione, then?"

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The Hogwarts library, to Seamus, was not a place of extreme importance. It was a place to go for study dates, meetings aranged for group projects and in extreme circumstances a place to work on essays due the next day. He knew that some students liked the library, and when he really thought about it the rich smell of dusty old pages and the sun falling around the tall stacks of books could be rather comforting, but it wasn't a part of the school he spent a lot of time in.

Hermione, however, had set up camp in the library the second week of school and, other than that one Saturday Harry and Ron dragged her to a Hufflepuff party and managed to get her drunk enough to sleep away a Sunday, she had yet to be seen elsewhere during free time. There were NEWTS this year, she would explain to anyone who questioned her, and they were vital to a student's future. Hermione had a permanent table at the back of the library where a large window was positioned perfectly to let light fall from behind her for most of the day. Madame Prince and the rest of the students all knew that any book on that table was to be left on that table, after an issue with an old herbology text and a tooth removal curse.

Seamus approached Hermione's table with timid uncertainty. He stood across the table from her until she looked up from her work at him and tilted her head questioningly to the side. He took that as an invitation to join her and sat in a comfortable but creaky old chair.

Seeing as this was Hermione, there was no point in small talk to lead up to the issue. "How do you know if someone is serious in a relationship?" Seamus fought the urge to look at the riveting wood grain of the table.

Hermione sighed. She stared at a point to the right and a bit above his head. She fiddled with her quill for a few seconds. Finally she put her palms face down on the table and looked Seamus directly in the eyes. "Seamus, you don't have to worry. I'm sure Blaise doesn't expect anything from you, he would know better. Anyone in the school would know better; everyone knows you aren't a long term person." She gave him a tight smile and started leafing through a huge book on vampires.

Seamus sat frozen in his chair. Slowly he stood up. Even slower, he walked back to Gryffindor tower. Everyone in the school "knew" he wasn't a long term person. Blaise wouldn't expect anything from him. Blaise didn't expect Seamus to be serious. That would mean Blaise wasn't serious. Blaise couldn't want to be serious, because he was with Seamus and Seamus wasn't supposed to be serious. The words floated through his head and mixed with one another. Blaise was not serious. Serious Blaise was not. Not serious was Blaise.

Seamus lay on his bed in the dorm and refused to cry. He wasn't going to be upset, he was going to do something. He had to show Blaise that he could be serious, but he had to do it without scaring Blaise away.

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The first step, he decided, was to set a deadline. He needed motivation, and if he could count the days until his plan had to be finished he might actually follow through with this. It was February sixth when he decided that Valentine's day would be his D-Day - or rather, V-Day. The next step was to gather his troops. There was no way he could do this alone. Dean would be easy (a promise to go to a soccer match would be enough) and Dean always had a lot of sway with Neville. Ron would tell everyone within an hour, just by forgetting it was a secret, so he was out. Harry was practically on another planet, with You-Know-Who and death and the war and everything. What he really needed was a girl, and inspiration.

Lucky for Seamus, both were waiting for him in the common room. Lavender, in a rare moment of silence, was engrossed in a paperback romance. Seamus sat on a chair near hers, and tried to peek over her shoulder. She looked at him with glazed eyes and smiled.

"Isn't love sweet?"

Seamus almost laughed. This was going to be too easy. He gave Lavender an easy smile. "Yeah, love is great. It can be hard, though."

"Ooo, Seam, you're in looooooove?" Lavender giggled and poked him in the arm. "Come on, tell me who it is!"

"Well, I haven't really told them yet... I don't know how." He aimed some sweet puppy eyes at the laughing girl and tried not to grin maniacally. This was so Slytherin - Blaise must be rubbing off on him.

Lavender was lost in thought. "You need help, Seamus. Boys are always hopeless when it comes to things like this, they never know how a woman feels. Well, not in real life, anyway." She glanced at her book, and then back to Seamus. "Now, tell me who it is, tell me how they feel. I need to know everything." She pulled Seamus down next to her on the couch.

Seamus sank into the soft couch, feeling decidedly relaxed in the comfortable seat. He smiled, letting his eyes slide nearly shut, thinking of Blaise. "I bet you've seen me with him. You know Blaise, right? He's in our year..." Seamus glanced at Lavender and saw recognition on her face. "Well, we've been sort of together for a while. I don't know if it's love, but... well. He's great, and so... different. Everything is different with him." Seamus knew he was grinning, but he couldn't help it, and didn't really mind.

"That's so sweet!" Lavender squealed, a bit too high pitch for Seamus but she was right so he let it slide. "What about him, do you think it's special for him too?" At this point, Lavender's romance novel lay forgotten on the floor, and she was turned to face him completely, with her legs up on the couch. "What are you two doing for Valentines? Are you visiting this summer? Oh! Do your parents know? Do they even know you like blokes?" Seamus raised his eyebrows and shifted a bit away from Lavender's too-close cloud of perfume.

"Well, it's sort of like this. I don't think he know's that it's different for me. We've sort of only fooled around so far. Like with everyone else. It feels different... but maybe just for me?" Seamus bit his lip. "That's sort of... what I wanted to talk to you about." He hoped he wasn't making a fool of himself. He hoped she could help - wanted to help, even. She was being oddly silent, which couldn't be a good sign. Seamus started to get off the couch, mentally cursing himself.

"Where are you going?" Lavender grabbed his wrist. He turned to her, and she smiled. "I'll help, Seamus. What are friends for?" She pushed him into his seat fairly easily, and grinned excitedly again. "So, have you got a plan yet?"Seamus considered for a minute. "What, exactly, constitutes a plan?" She raised an eyebrow, and he smiled sheepishly.

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There _will_ be more to this story, it will just take me a while. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed what you've seen. If you want to talk to me personally, my contact information is at my livejournal, essawkward.


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